


Homicide Stories

by terma_archivist



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, The X-Files
Genre: Dennis Knoll, Episode: s07e06-07 Wanted: Dead or Alive (Homicide), Episode: s07e13 Homicide.com, Episode: s07e16 Truth Will Out, Episode: s07e17 Zen and the Art of Murder, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Language, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-03-01
Updated: 1999-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Tim Bayliss has had a rough time lately, a certain bounty hunter makes him feel better.
Relationships: Tim Bayliss/Dennis Knoll
Collections: TER/MA





	1. Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> Thanks to Amy for beta, being there and everything; this is for her. Additional beta by Orithain and her big comma. This story came about after watching the episode Wanted Dead or Alive. I knew right away that I had to slash Timmy with that delectable bounty hunter Dennis Knoll.

  
**Second Chance  
by Nicole S**

  
Tim Bayliss turned away from the Waterfront, where his colleagues were enjoying a drink together, and walked down the street. He didn't want to be around them around right now, slapping him on the back, telling him that it was okay he had killed a man, buying him drinks to make him feel better. He wanted to be alone. It was cold and he turned up his collar, tears welling up in his eyes as he faced the wind. 

The past few weeks had not been easy for Tim. He was outed, he was stood up for a date, threatened with having his _faggot ass kicked_ , deleted his website that he had worked so hard on, killed a man and gave up his faith. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut as he reflected on each item one by one. He walked, shoulders hunched forward, eyes fixed on the sidewalk, not caring where it led him. 

His insides had quivered and he had broken out in a sweat when he had hit the _delete_ key and obliterated his website from cyberspace forever. _How did this happen? How did it come to this?_ he thought to himself. He remembered biting the inside of his lip to keep from screaming before he stood to leave. Tim had left the stationhouse that evening amidst the stares and glares of the uniformed officers. He had kept his head held high, seeming not to care, walking right past them and out the front door. He recalled telling Gee how he wouldn't delete it, that it was his freedom of expression, his civil liberty. What a crock of shit, there was no freedom of expression. Expression meant exposing yourself, leading only to conflict. 

Tim stopped and drew in a shaky breath before continuing; the mental imagery was almost too much to bear. He tried to find peace as he walked, concentrating on his steps, trying not to think of all that had happened. It didn't work. 

When he tried to sleep the night that he obliterated his website with one key stroke, he lay in bed, his eyes unable to close. As now, the events turned and twisted in his mind. He had tried to see their side, to understand why his sexuality threatened them. He had tried to feel sorry for them because they were ignorant and full of fear. He couldn't do it; he could not see the good in anything or anyone that day. Everything held a bitter taste that magnified his misery even more. 

He thought of Fisk and his reaction to Tim coming to visit him at his squad. Tim had caught all the vibes Roger threw at him at that crime scene, flashing him that smile, looking at him from under his eyelashes. Later at Gay '90's, he had seen him, all buff, sporting two earrings, flashing him that smile again. A part of him had wanted to take Roger home that night and explore his body with his tongue, but he didn't dare suggest such things. He had been with men and fooled around a little, but he hadn't _been_ with a man and was nervous about suggesting anything. He couldn't just take someone home and have sex with him; it wasn't something Tim did. 

When Roger had stood him up for dinner, he had given him the benefit of the doubt, made up a thousand excuses for him. He had tossed and turned that night as well, bad thoughts nagging at him, making the pit of his stomach ache. He had known that he had been stood up, but he had to confront Roger and find out what had happened. When Roger had told him that if Tim didn't leave him alone, he'd _kick his faggot ass_ , he left the stationhouse, walked to his car and sat there for the longest time. The cheeks of his face had felt as if they had been slapped repeatedly. Tim hadn't known what to do, so he went back to work and tried to get on with the rest of his day. 

But today, today was the kicker. Today he had killed a man who was clearly insane. A man that had no reason to point and fire that gun at him. This man had killed Roshi Felder for giving him a spoon, for godsakes! Gee and Lewis told him it was the right thing to do; the counselor told him it was the right thing to do; it didn't help matters any. The point was that he had killed a man, a man innocent of his wrongdoings because he was crazy and not responsible for his actions. 

The counselor told him that he shouldn't make excuses for Larry Moss, that if it hadn't been James Felder, someone else would have pissed him off, and the outcome would have been the same. Larry Moss had been a ticking time-bomb; it was just a matter of time before he snapped. 

Tim stopped again as he saw Larry Moss' face before him, full of rage and confusion. He shut his eyes for a second before continuing, eyes still down, counting the lines in the sidewalk. Maybe the counselor was right, maybe he was being too hard on himself. Still, Larry Moss had been a human being, a living creature that was alive no more. 

His faith, the one thing that had kept him calm, kept him sane in his insane job, was now gone. He had no religion anymore. At the split second he pulled the trigger, he had ceased to be a Buddhist. He saw no choice in the matter; he could not be a man of peace and kill at the same time. It was either one or the other; Tim chose the other. He was going to be a cop. 

Tim sighed then groaned out loud. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore. He had tortured himself for weeks and saw no end to the relentless images assaulting him, not only in his dreams, but also when his mind wandered for a second. He wished he could make it all go away. 

He walked some more; the wind had died down and a light drizzle had begun to fall, covering him with a fine mist. He realized he had been walking for some time, turning here and there, not really knowing or caring, where he was going. He stopped and looked up at the street signs to get his bearings. He knew this corner; there was a lounge a block west of here. A gay lounge. 

Tim made his way down the street until he was in front of the lounge. He stood outside the front door for a moment. This wasn't a club with pounding music and lights; this was a subtle affair, with large, comfy chairs and small tables for intimate conversations. 

He licked his lips; he really wanted a drink right now...a large one. 

_Don't go there, Timmy._

He recalled how he had told Lewis that beer wasn't the answer. _Hypocrite._ Tim sighed. _That was then, this is now._ The rain was starting to fall harder now, attempting to soak him through his coat, prompting him to go inside, just to keep from getting wetter. 

_I wandered here on my own, it must mean... _something_._

Tim went in the lounge and sat at the mahogany bar with its shiny brass railing. He brushed the rain off of his coat as he took it off and folded it over the stool beside him. He took his glasses off and wiped the water droplets off of them before returning them to his face, the bartender waiting for him. 

"Pint and Glenlivet." He retrieved fifty dollars from his wallet and placed the bills on the bar. "Keep 'em coming." 

Tim breathed in deeply as he waited for his refreshments to arrive. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bartender; he looked like crap. His hair was wet and stringy, face pale. Suddenly, he was very self-conscious, as if everyone were staring at him. His drinks arrived without ceremony. 

He slammed the whiskey down and gulped the beer in record time before he went to the washroom. He managed to dry himself off pretty well, then straightened his tie and the lapels of his jacket. He went back to the same stool, noticing the population of the lounge was older, late 30s, early 40s, couples talking and laughing with each other. _Married_ gay couples. 

Tim nearly sneered but caught himself as he straddled the stool again and ordered another shot and beer. There was no use getting angry, he was just going to get a quiet buzz, go home and pass out. Something he hadn't done for a long, long time. 

"I'm a weak man," he said into his second beer as he gulped the fine amber liquid. He thought more about what had happened in the last few weeks as he drank, the alcohol fueling his misery. He had just ordered his fifth round when a voice came from behind him. 

"Hey, Bayliss." 

Tim stiffened at the voice, panicking inside that someone had followed him here. He looked up at the mirror behind the bar and caught the reflection of the person who was talking to him. A frown crossed his face as he turned around. 

"Hey, Knoll, whazzup? Don't tell me you're tailing someone in a place like this?" Tim looked at him with half closed eyes, drunken panic raging inside his head. Dennis Knoll was a nice guy for a bounty hunter, but Tim couldn't let his guard down. 

Knoll laughed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "No, actually, I come here once in awhile to unwind." 

Tim checked him out, seeing his black dress pants and dark green shirt. He nodded and went back to his beer. Dennis sat on the vacant stool beside him. 

"Y'all right, Detective Bayliss?" Dennis asked, his slight southern twang showing. "This place is a little high class for drunken cops." 

Tim looked as if he was going to say something but didn't. Instead he slammed the rest of his beer down and ordered another. The bartender gave him a look then looked at Knoll, who waved him off. 

"What the hell are you doing?" 

"I think you've had enough, Bayliss." 

"Who the fuck're you to tell me what the fuck I can and can't do?" Tim's words were slurring together, and he had a hard time focusing. The profanity coming from his mouth shocked him pleasantly. 

"Well, I'm concerned, Timmy. It's not every day I see someone as calm, cool and collected as yourself go on a bender." 

"Yeah right," Tim sneered. "Who sent you here? You gonna kick my ass for being a _fag_?" 

Dennis knit his brows together, "No, why would I want to do that?" He leaned in close, genuine concern in his voice, "Did someone threaten you, Bayliss?" 

"Like you don't know." Tim grabbed his coat off the stool beside him and stumbled out the door. Dennis watched him leave the bar, grabbed his own jacket, then followed him outside. 

Tim hadn't gotten far; he was puking his guts out in the alleyway around the corner of the lounge. The rain had stopped, but a fog had rolled in, keeping the air and everything else damp. Dennis watched Tim throw up most of what he had drunk that night. He pursed his lips together and waited for him to finish before he put his hand on his arm to help him up. 

Tim pulled his arm away as if Dennis' hand was on fire. "Leave me alone," he managed to croak. 

"I'm not going to leave you in this condition, Bayliss." 

"Why, so you can tell everyone how pathetic I am? How I cracked?" Tim wobbled to his feet, stumbled out of the alleyway and a few yards down the street before he stopped and rested against a wall. A few seconds later, he slumped to the wet concrete, head back against the wall, eyes closed. 

Dennis came over and crouched beside him, "Tim, what happened? What are you talking about?" 

Tim sighed and looked up at Dennis, who had a look of concern on his face. He still didn't let his guard down. "I had a very bad day." 

Dennis laughed, "I guessed that." He looked at the misery on Tim's face; whatever happened today must have been devastating. He smiled again at the cop, whose face was a pallid green colour in the light from the street. "We should get you home. Where'd you park your car?" 

"Walked." Tim moaned out loud as he thought of his car at the station and how he was going to have to cab it to work tomorrow. 

Dennis helped Tim to his feet. "I'll give you a ride." 

Tim looked at him warily but saw the sincerity still in his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled. 

"I can't let a fellow person in law enforcement sit here in the rain now, can I?" He led Tim to his truck, making sure he was securely fastened in the passenger side before getting into the driver's seat. He looked at Tim as he started his truck, resisting the urge to touch him again to reassure him that everything would be all right. They drove in silence to the address Tim gave him, save for the radio tuned to a classic rock station. 

Dennis pulled up in front of the apartment block and turned to tell Tim they had arrived. Tim was asleep. His head was back against the rest, lips parted slightly letting out his breath, his forehead without the familiar furrows. Dennis shook his head as he got out of the truck and went around to the passenger side. 

"Tim." He unfastened the seatbelt and shook the cop. "Tim, you're home." 

Tim could only groan. 

"C'mon, buddy, we're here." Dennis shook Tim violently to wake him. 

"What...?" 

"We're here, you're home." 

"Yeah, good, thanks." Tim got out of the truck and stumbled towards his front door, dropping his keys in the wet grass out front. 

Dennis stifled a laugh as he walked towards Tim, who was now crawling around on his hands and knees. Dennis swooped down and grabbed the keys, then hoisted Tim upright by his armpit. "Which apartment, Bayliss?" 

"5C," he slurred. 

Dennis held onto the drunken cop through the lobby and into the elevator. Tim was well on his way to passing out, and he didn't want him falling over and hurting himself. He dragged him down the hallway to apartment 5C and opened the door. He lay Tim as gently as he could on the couch. Suddenly, a hand was on his as he turned to leave. 

"Hey, why dontcha stay?" 

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Tim." 

"Why not?" 

"You're drunk, and I'm too much of a gentleman to take advantage of someone in your condition." 

Tim snorted, "Bullshit." 

"You're right, I ain't that much of a gentleman. But I do know when it's time to go home." He threw Tim's keys on the table and walked to the door. "Take care of yourself, Bayliss." 

Tim was already asleep. 

* * *

The room was spinning and his ears were ringing. Tim tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't work. He managed to get one eye partway open but closed it abruptly at the sunlight assaulting it. He moaned as the ringing in his ears continued, harsh, shrill...like a telephone... _Wait, it _is_ the phone._ With great effort, Tim reached over and picked up the phone. 

"Lo." 

"Bayliss, you gonna grace us with your presence today?" 

_Oh no, it's Gee._ "I...uh...I'm not feeling very well, Gee." 

"You don't sound so good, Bayliss. You got the flu?" 

"Well...I..." 

"Stay home today if you have the flu. Better yet, take the rest of the week off. I don't want you spreading it around here, making everyone else sick. You've got enough sick time to take a few days." 

"Okay." Tim was in no mood to argue with Gee in this condition. 

"I'll see you Monday, Bayliss." Then the phone disconnected. 

"Bye," Tim said into dead air as he replaced the handset on the cradle. His hand reached up to caress his forehead, where it felt like someone was pounding on it with a hammer. 

Parts of last night came trickling back to him as he realized he was on his couch, fully clothed, his shoes still on. He remembered going to the lounge, drinking vast quantities of alcohol, Dennis Knoll seeing him; the rest was a haze. He remembered throwing up...but nothing else. 

Slowly he kicked off his shoes and tried to stand to go to the bedroom. He slumped to the floor; the room was still spinning. Painfully he crawled to the bedroom and took off his clothes while sitting on the floor. That crawl to the bedroom must have awakened his bladder because now he had to pee. 

"Dammit!" he said out loud. 

He crawled to the doorway of the bedroom and held on to the doorframe as he slowly stood up. He used the wall to support himself as he made his way to the bathroom. He ignored his reflection in the mirror as he relieved himself, hand forward to brace him against the wall. When he was done, he lumbered back to the bedroom, flopped onto the bed and passed out. 

Tim spent the next two days in bed, getting up for glasses of water, dandelion tea, and large doses of golden seal. He was trying to purge the alcohol from his system, mad at himself for falling so hard so fast. He had decided that even though he would not keep Buddhism as a faith, he would keep the healthy lifestyle it had instilled in him. 

The third morning, he was quite hungry, opting for some gluten-free toasted bread with soy spread, ignoring the sudden, strange craving for a greasy cheeseburger. He munched on his toast and thought some more about what happened the night he saw Dennis Knoll. They now had a secret between them, which didn't unnerve Tim as much as he thought it would. 

When they were in Florida a few months ago to pick up that fugitive, he had never imagined the buff bounty hunter was gay. He kept ogling the women, commenting on their breasts, proud that he could spot the _natural_ women a mile away. Tim sipped his tea and thought about how good looking Dennis was. He had checked him out briefly when they were waiting for their plane to leave Baltimore. He had a definite swagger, his body muscular, but not overly so. His hair was short, balding a little, but that was forgiven. His eyes were hazel and close set, beneath a heavy brow. His jaw was strong but not wide. His tattoo moved when his bicep flexed. His mouth was very nice; his smile could light a room; his lips looked soft. Not too bad at all. 

He stopped eating as he thought of Dennis, his cheeks flaming to a blush. He was very good looking, and now Tim knew where he was a regular. He smirked into his tea as he took a sip and planned his evening. 

* * *

Tim wasn't dressed like a cop when he visited the lounge this time. He wore a cream sweater and khakis, hoping he looked okay. He was nervous this time around when he sat at the bar and ordered a drink. 

"Pint and Glenlivet, sir?" The bartender asked. 

"Um, no, not this time. Cranberry juice and soda, please." 

The bartender remained expressionless as he turned to get his drink. 

Tim looked into the mirror behind the bartender, trying to scope out the rest of the bar without turning his head. He couldn't see very much due to the bottles and other paraphernalia in the way. His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating as he scanned the room, hoping to see Dennis. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the bartender come back with his drink. 

"Sir, three fifty." 

"What? Oh, yeah, right." Tim gave the man a five and didn't notice that the bartender had kept the change. 

He sat there for about an hour, nursing non-alcoholic beverages, before he decided to give up and try again tomorrow. Suddenly, a voice came from behind him. 

"Hey, Bayliss, you here again?" 

Tim's heart started beating fast as he turned around. "Yeah." 

"So, whatcha forgetting this time?" Dennis smiled at him, prompting Tim to smile back. 

"Nothing, I'm not drinking alcohol today." 

"Well thank god for that. When I saw you sitting here, I was beginning to think that I'd have to drag you home again." 

Tim's face went blank and turned pale. "Excuse me?" 

"I took you home the other day." 

Tim felt his face redden as he thought of Dennis Knoll, bounty hunter, babysitting his drunken ass. He had thought he had taken a cab home that night. His car was still at work, he didn't drive... 

"You don't remember, do you? 

"I...uh...no, I don't." 

"C'mon, let's get a table so we can talk." 

Tim followed Dennis to the back where they sat in a booth. 

"So, you took me home?" 

"Yeah, I drove you home and practically carried you up to your apartment. I left you on your couch." 

Tim put his head in his hands; this was so embarrassing. 

"Hey, Timmy, don't sweat it. It's not like I haven't seen a guy puke before. I've seen myself puke many times." Dennis gave a short laugh. 

Tim raised his head, a look of horror on his face, "You...you saw me throw up?" 

"Yep. If you were a girl, I would have held your hair back for you." 

Tim laughed, realizing that Dennis didn't care what had happened. He was grateful for that. The waiter came and Dennis ordered a beer. They talked about the weather until Dennis got his drink, then he got a serious look on his face. 

"I want to talk to you about something. You had indicated that someone threatened you. You asked me if I was going to kick your ass. Is everything okay?" 

Tim took a deep breath, "Yeah, everything's fine." 

Dennis shook his head, "No, it's not. You were clearly scared and pissed off that night I saw you." 

"Really, everything's fine." Tim looked across the table into the hazel eyes of the bounty hunter. He knew that look; he had given it to suspects a million times when they lied to him. "Well, not _everything_ is fine." 

"Why don't you tell me about it." Dennis leaned forward, all his attention focused on Tim and what he was saying. 

Tim told him everything, about his near death experience, which prompted his interest in Buddhism, his bisexuality, his website and the subsequent reaction of his peers. His eyes darkened and he wished he had ordered something stronger when he started telling him about Roger, the deletion of his website, and his confrontation with Larry Moss. When he finished, he looked down at the table, feeling better that he had told someone all this stuff that had been welling up inside him. At the same time, he felt maudlin at his screwed up life. 

Dennis whistled. "You were right when you told me you were having a bad day." 

Tim shrugged and ordered another cranberry and soda from a passing waiter. "Yeah, well, we all got our problems." 

"That we do, my friend, that we do." 

Tim looked at Dennis, his hazel eyes full of concern. He had spilled his guts, now it was time for Dennis to answer some questions. 

"So, Dennis, you didn't tell me you were gay." 

"No, I didn't, did I? I guess it never came up in conversation." 

"What was all that looking at women's breasts down in Miami?" 

"I like women too." Dennis grinned at him, "Just like you." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. You know, women are soft and round, and they smell real nice." 

Tim nodded. 

"Men are hard and muscular and have a different smell, the opposite of women. I like variety. Know what I mean?" 

Tim stared wide-eyed at Dennis, here was someone who felt exactly as he did. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He took a sip of his drink then asked Dennis a question that had been on his mind for months. "So, is that why you were coming on to Mike in Miami?" 

Now it was Dennis' time to look shocked, "Come on to Mike? Giardello?" 

"Yeah, you were pretty chummy by the end of the trip." 

"Naw, it wasn't like that at all." Dennis leaned forward, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. "See, I've always wanted to be a cop. Moreso, I wanted to be a secret agent. You know that song "Secret Agent Man?" Well, as a kid, I used to sing that to myself as I rode my bike around trying to solve crimes in the neighbourhood. When I got older, I took the law enforcement courses and applied to the PD, as well as the FBI. Well, I passed all the academic courses, and the physical tests were a snap. The thing was, my hearing in my left ear isn't all that good. As a matter of fact, it's real bad. When I was a kid, my Daddy took us out to the woods to teach us how to shoot, and my little brother was a little anxious, and he fired his shotgun off when I was standing right beside him. It permanently damaged the little hairs in there that help you hear. There's nothing you can do to correct it. So now, I can hardly hear in that ear, and to be a cop, you gotta be able to hear." 

Dennis pursed his lips together for a moment, looked away, then looked back up at Tim. "So when I was hanging on Agent Mike Giardello's every word, I wasn't trying to pick him up, I was trying to see what being an FBI agent was like." Dennis laughed, "And you know what? I'd rather do my job any day. Too many damn rules in the Bureau." 

Tim laughed, "Those rules are there for a reason." 

Dennis waved his hands to dismiss the comment, "Yeah, but all those rules get in the way sometimes. Prevents you from doing your job." 

"Sometimes, that's true. It's too bad about your hearing." 

"It's all right now. I like the job I have now." 

"As long as you like what you do." 

"Wouldn't change it for the world. Things have a way of working out, Tim." 

Tim shrugged, "I guess so." 

"Like you coming here, I'm glad you came back." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah, I mean, I got to know you a little bit when we went down south, and seeing you here the other night got me thinking of you." 

"I've been thinking about you too." 

"I guessed that." Dennis finished his beer and looked over at Tim, who was trying hard not to blush. "What are you thinking of, Tim?" 

He looked across the table at the man who reminded him of a young Robert Duvall. "I..." He started laughing. "I was thinking about how good looking you are and how I was attracted to you from the start but didn't realize it until yesterday." Tim shook his head, "That sounds so dumb." 

"No, it doesn't, Tim." Dennis reached over, put his hand over Tim's and ran his thumb across it. "I'm attracted to you too." 

Tim sat there, stunned; he didn't know what to do. The last time he tried to start something, he got burned in the worst way. His reluctance must have shown on his face, because he found Dennis' hand suddenly cupping his chin and tilting his head up to meet his gaze. 

"I'm not going to play games with you, Tim. I'm going to tell you up front exactly what I'm thinking. First thing, my boss knows what I am and is cool with it; women seem to be more understanding then men are when it comes to this kind of thing. Second, I'm not out where my clients are concerned. Now most of them do the same thing in prison as I do in my bedroom, except I call it making love, and they call it something else. However, them knowing would cause me more hassles then I need when I'm bringing them in. Thirdly..." Dennis smiled and lowered his voice, "Thirdly, I'd love to take you home and make love to you, Tim Bayliss. Then we could see where we wanted to go from there." 

Tim was shocked, but pleasantly so. He swallowed hard, "I'd like that very much." He closed his eyes as Dennis leaned forward to kiss him; his lips were soft and he could taste the beer on his breath. It was a quick kiss, but Tim could still feel Dennis' lips pressed against his and his hand on his chin after they pulled away. His cock started to harden, and he nearly moaned out loud as it pressed against the fabric of his underwear. 

"My place is closer, " Dennis said. 

"Sure, sounds good." 

Both men stood to leave, jackets draped over their fronts. They drove their respective cars a few miles to a middle-class neighbourhood with row houses. Dennis parked his truck in his driveway and waited for Tim to pull up to park on the street. They entered the townhouse, which was modest yet tastefully furnished. They threw their jackets on the couch. 

Tim's heart was beating fast. He was so nervous and excited his stomach had twisted and turned all the way over here. He deliberately breathed slowly and tried to calm himself. 

"Do you want anything, coffee, water?" 

"No." 

"Good." 

Tim swore Dennis could probably hear and see his heart pounding in his chest as he moved in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around the other man and leaned forward into his embrace, partly so he wouldn't fall to the floor, as his knees were feeling weak. His hand moved up to the back of Dennis' head; he could feel the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and couldn't resist caressing them for a minute. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, tongues exploring each other's mouths, hands wandering over each other, caressing each other's backs. Tim could feel the bulge in Dennis' pants rub against his own, making him suddenly very hot. 

Dennis broke away and looked him in the eye. "Come with me." He led Tim upstairs to the bedroom and put on a light in the corner to give them just enough illumination to see each other. They rejoined, arms around each other, kissing each other hungrily. 

Tim could feel Dennis start to unbutton his pants, then his hands were up under his sweater, bringing it over his head. Tim's hands moved to unbutton the dark blue shirt Dennis was wearing, his hands rapidly flying over the buttons. Quickly, they removed each other's clothing and stood before each other, naked. 

As Tim had suspected, Dennis had a beautiful body. He was tall and slim, yet muscular. His body was that of an athlete, strong and very well built, strong shoulders, long lean torso that tapered to slim waist and hips. His well-defined abs had a line of hair trailing down to the curls at his groin. His cock was thick and long, the head glistening with a spot of pre-come, and his balls hung heavily from his body. His ass was something to behold, in perfect shape and rounded. Long, muscular legs came down to end at perfectly proportioned feet. 

Tim took his glasses off and laid them on the dresser before crossing the two steps to Dennis. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again, opening his mouth to allow the passage of Dennis' tongue. His hands roamed all over the body before him, down to cup and squeeze the tight ass, up to the broad shoulders, then back down to come around and skim the front. Their erections rubbed together, sending shock waves of passion through both men. 

Dennis moved his mouth down from Tim's mouth to his neck, licking a trail to his chest where he sucked and bit a nipple. Tim arched into his touch, hardly noticing that he was being pushed back onto the bed. Suddenly, Dennis was straddling him, lapping his nipple with a practiced tongue. Tim's hands moved up to Dennis' nipples, pinching and teasing them with his fingers before moving lower, down his abdomen to his hard cock. 

Tim hesitated for a second before stroking it with his hand, gaining a moan from the man still sucking on his nipple. He stroked again, this time making him wiggle his hips, almost trying to fuck his hand. Tim then grabbed both erections together in his hand and squeezed, making both of them moan out loud. 

"How do you want it, Tim?" Dennis moved up to kiss Tim on the mouth, biting on his lower lip before pulling away. 

"I don't know...I..." Tim's words were cut off by another searing kiss. 

"I want you, Tim. I want to feel myself inside you. I want to make love to you." 

"I'm not sure..." 

"What?" 

"I...I mean..." Tim drew away, sat up and crossed his arms in front of himself. 

"What is it?" 

"I've never...done this with a man before." 

"Never done what? Been the bottom?" 

"I've never had sex with a man before. I mean, I've kissed, I've fooled around, I've just never done _this_ before." 

Dennis reached out and caressed his arm. "Do you _want_ to do this?" 

"Yes, I do." 

"Do you want to do this with _me_?" 

"Very much so." 

Dennis moved towards Tim and cupped his chin in his hand. He kissed Tim, his tongue sliding between his lips. He reached up, uncrossed Tim's arms and moved them so they were on his hips, fingers digging in slightly. 

"I want you, Tim; I don't know what else to say." 

"Yeah, I want you inside me, Dennis." 

Dennis gave a short smile before he kissed Tim again, bringing him down to lie on the bed, spreading his legs so he could lie between them. He moved down Tim's body, nipping at the soft skin on his belly before nuzzling his face into the hair at his groin. His hands caressed the crease where leg met thigh, massaging the area, feeling Tim relax. He nuzzled Tim's cock with his chin before he lapped at the spot of pre-come that had formed at the tip with his tongue. 

Tim's hands gripped the sheets as Dennis took him into his mouth, his talented tongue probing the slit before teasing the underside of the head. He was sweating and panting as he felt Dennis' hand go down between his legs, caressing his balls, then lower. Tim clenched and his body stiffened; he hadn't had anyone down that way before. 

Dennis took his mouth off of Tim's cock and kissed his belly. "Relax, Tim, I'm not going to hurt you. This is going to feel incredibly good." He reached over to the side of the bed and got out a small plastic bottle of lubricant, which he set aside. He moved up to kiss Tim on the lips, rubbing his chest with his hands, trying to soothe his anxiety. Again he moved down to lick his nipples, bringing a moan from the detective. His hands wandered lower, lightly caressing his balls and down to rub the perineum. His mouth started to move down lower again until he was at Tim's hard cock. He nuzzled it again, teasing Tim with his movements, making him moan and writhe on the bed. He grabbed the small bottle of lubricant and coated his fingers with it. Very slowly, he started to rub the perineum as his mouth descended on Tim's cock. Tim began moaning instantly. Lower his hand went until his thumb pressed up against the puckered opening, pressure building, until it gained entrance. 

Tim gasped and his eyes flew open; he had never felt anything like this before. He felt Dennis' thumb dig deeper and deeper inside him, and then it was gone. Tim moaned at the loss until another digit entered, stroking inside him. He bent his knees and spread his legs wider, wanting more of this. Suddenly, it felt as if a bolt of electricity passed through him; his body jerked and his balls felt like they would explode any minute. 

"Oh, God!" 

"You like that, hey, Timmy? That's your prostate, your g-spot." 

"Whatever it's called," Tim panted. "you do that again and I'm going to come." 

"Good." 

Dennis inserted another finger into Tim, stretching him wider before adding a third. He wanted Tim to feel as little discomfort as possible. He looked down at the detective sprawled on the bed beneath him, a look of sheer ecstasy on his face. He stroked Tim's prostate again just as he brought his mouth down to suck on his cock, his tongue fluttering up the back. 

Tim's eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a strangled cry as he came, nearly passing out from the pleasure. Stars floated before his eyes as he felt Dennis suck up his essence and lick him clean. Then there was a mouth on his, tongue probing forward, tasting himself on that tongue. He had never done this before, never felt this way before; he wanted more and he wanted it now. He grabbed Dennis' face and held it to his, forcing his tongue deep down the bounty hunter's throat. His hands wandered down to cup his ass, squeezing his firm cheeks. 

"Oh, Timmy, I want you." Dennis dug his cock into Tim's thigh to emphasize his point. "C'mon, on your belly, it'll feel better for you." Dennis shoved all his pillows under Tim's hips to raise his ass high in the air. He put a towel on top to catch Tim's come. Tim's cock was hanging down on top of the pile, hardening with every moment that passed. Dennis reached over and got a condom out of his nightstand drawer and put it on. He squirted a generous amount of lube onto his hand and slicked himself up well before positioning himself behind Tim and pressing against his entrance. 

Tim whimpered at the pain of something that big going into an orifice that small. He resisted at first, but then calmed himself and consciously relaxed his muscles, allowing the head to slowly pass through the tight ring of muscle. Slowly, he felt Dennis push into him, seeming to take forever to fully embed himself. Finally, Tim felt Dennis' balls rest against his ass, his cock quivering inside him. 

Dennis was sweating, he had never taken so long to do this in his life, and he didn't know how much longer he could hang on. Tim's ass was so tight, so sweet, he wanted this so bad. He leaned over and rested his cheek on Tim's back, kissing it for a minute. 

"Just a minute, Tim. I don't want this over too fast." 

Tim could only groan, he felt great. His cock was throbbing again and dripping pre-come onto the towel. 

A few minutes later, Dennis kissed the back of Tim's neck and started to move. He moved slowly, his hips moving from side to side, trying to widen the now slick hole. One arm snaked around to embrace the man below him, squeezing him tightly. He started to move a little faster, his knees digging into the mattress as he moved in and out of Tim's ass. 

Tim felt Dennis grab onto his cock, taking the pre-come from the head and moving it around to lubricate it. He bit his lip and shut his eyes; Dennis was hitting his prostate with every stroke, and it felt so good, he now knew what nirvana was. 

Faster still, Dennis moved, noticing Tim making a whimpering sound with every thrust. He too was moaning with every stroke; he wasn't going to last too much longer. He sat back on his knees and pounded into Tim's ass, one hand on his hip, the other stroking his cock. Dennis flew over the edge and nearly screamed when he came, his balls releasing their fluid out his cock and into the rubber. Tim wasn't far behind; one more pull on his cock and he did scream, coming all over Dennis' hand and onto the towel. 

Tim felt Dennis collapse on top of him, breathing heavily, whimpering. He was paralyzed by his orgasm, lying there boneless, his body refusing to move. A short time later, Dennis pulled out and rolled to the side, letting the air back into Tim's lungs. Tim rolled to his side, leaving the pile of pillows in the middle. Dennis cleaned them both up, discarded the condom and piled the pillows back at the head of the bed. Both men reached for each other at the same time, snuggling together, kissing each other. 

"Dennis, that was truly amazing." 

Dennis smiled, his eyes showing satisfaction. " _You_ were amazing, Tim." His hand reached up to caress Tim's flushed cheek as he moved in for yet another kiss, this one soft and gentle. 

They lay there for awhile, not talking until Tim broke the ice. "So now what?" 

"Now I ask you to stay the night and cook you breakfast in the morning if you do." 

Tim laughed, "Really?" 

"Yeah, unless _you_ want to cook _me_ breakfast, and in that case, I'd really like you to stay." 

Tim laughed again before turning his head to look into the bounty hunter's eyes then took a deep breath, "I really like you Dennis." 

"I like you too, Tim." 

"Is this a one time thing, or not?" 

"I'd like to spend time with you, if that's what you're asking." 

"I don't want this to end when I walk out that door tomorrow morning." 

Dennis grinned, "So you're staying?" 

"Obviously." 

"This isn't going to end, Tim, unless you want it to. I certainly don't want it to. I think this could be the start of something good." 

"I think so too." 

Dennis gave Tim a squeeze and kissed him on the forehead. 

Tim lay with his head on Dennis Knoll's chest, feeling the fuzzy hair beneath his cheek. Tim's eyes started to close; a sated feeling had come over him, making him feel happy and good. He was slipping into a light sleep, the images of hate and misunderstanding gone from his mind. A smile crossed his face as he finally entered dreamland; he now had a new set of images to occupy his mind, ones of good feelings and friendship, and maybe a little bit of love. 

* * *

Rating: NC-17 for some bad words and m/m sex.   
If you liked this, please tell me. [email removed]   
My fic can be found at: http://www.squidge.org/terma   
Spoilers: Wanted Dead or Alive, Homicide.com, Truth Will Out and Zen & the Art of Murder   
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to NBC, Baltimore Pictures and a whole bunch of other people.   
Summary: Tim Bayliss has had a rough time lately, a certain bounty hunter makes him feel better.   
Comments: Thanks to Amy for beta, being there and everything; this is for her. Additional beta by Orithain and her big comma. This story came about after watching the episode Wanted Dead or Alive. I knew right away that I had to slash Timmy with that delectable bounty hunter Dennis Knoll.   
(3/99)   
---


	2. Third Time's a Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim Bayliss has had a rough time lately, a certain bounty hunter makes him feel better.

Go to notes and disclaimers 

  
**Third Time's a Charm  
by Nicole S**

  
Tim Bayliss checked the clock, then the lasagna, then looked out the window to the parking lot below. It was the seventh time he had done so in the past hour. _Dennis should have been here forty minutes ago._ A frown deepened the creases between his eyes. This wasn't like Dennis; he was always on time, early for most things, actually. Tim convinced himself that he wasn't worried, just nervous. He hoped Dennis wasn't standing him up; he didn't know what he'd do if that happened. He got a beer out of the fridge and sat down at the kitchen table, set for two. An ache began in the pit of his stomach as that last thought ran through his mind over and over. 

"He's not standing me up," he said out loud. 

He took a healthy sip of his beer and tried to calm himself. He was nervous because this was the first time he had cooked dinner for someone in a long time. This was Dennis and his third official _date_ , and he wanted to make it special. Their first date had been the Orioles' home opener. It had been pouring rain, and they had run, drenched, to a bar across the street from the stadium to keep dry. It had been crowded, but they had managed to find a corner to squeeze into. They had been so engrossed in their conversation, that they had almost forgotten to go back to the game when the tarp was rolled up. Their second date had been at Dennis' place. He had attempted to make them dinner, but they had ended up in his bed, sheets tangled around them, making love until the early morning, when they had gone to an all-night diner instead. 

Tim blushed at the thought of the things he did with Dennis, things he had never done with anyone else. Their first night together was something incredibly special to him, something he would never forget. He had awoken the morning after with a warm body next to him, and it had taken about half a second to remember where he was. He remembered smiling as he felt Dennis Knoll's buttocks press against his own. Tim had snuggled his face into his pillow, grinning at the thought of his recovery time the night before. If Dennis could make him come that hard that fast over and over, he was going to die a young man. A happy man, but a young man. He swore he could still feel Dennis inside him, filling him, stroking that spot... He had nearly groaned out loud as his cock started to swell, realizing he couldn't get overexcited because he had a dilemma to face—he had to pee. He had lain there, his bladder begging for release as he tried to think of a way to get to the bathroom without embarrassing himself. 

He had looked over at the chair where his clothes were strewn. He could have put on his pants...but then he'd just have to take them off again when he got back to bed. What he had really needed was a robe, something to throw over himself that could be flung aside when he got back to the room. He had sat and looked over at Dennis, his strong back rising and falling with every breath. He could have asked to borrow one but hadn't wanted to wake him. 

Tim laughed to himself as he remembered taking a deep breath before standing, thinking, _Okay, Bayliss, he's seen, touched, and even licked the most intimate parts of your body, this is no time to be modest._ He had grabbed his glasses off of the dresser before making his way to the end of the hall to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He had looked around as he relieved himself, noticing everything was very neat, no clutter whatsoever. He had noticed that in the bedroom as well. Dennis didn't have much stuff, and what he did have was put away. He had thought of his own bedroom, clothes thrown in the overflowing hamper to be dealt with later after long shifts were finished. 

He had finished peeing, then washed his hands before heading back to the bedroom. He had noticed another door along the way, which was most likely another bedroom. He had gotten back to Dennis' room and stopped abruptly when he saw hazel eyes looking up at him. 

"Good morning." 

"Hey, good morning." 

He had covered his groin with his hands, before he realized what he was doing. He had blushed a deep crimson then raked his fingers through his hair to mask his previous action. 

"Are you going to come back to bed?" 

"Um, yeah, I was just..." 

"Were you going to leave?" 

"No." 

Tim had put his glasses on the dresser before crawling back into bed, where Dennis had taken him right then and there, making gentle love to him; then keeping his promise, he had cooked Tim breakfast. Now this time they were here, on Tim's turf, and he had a few things to say to Dennis Knoll. He also knew how he wanted this evening to end, and that made him even more nervous. 

He had spent the day cleaning and doing laundry, making sure the bed was made. He'd even gone so far as to buy new pillows and pillow cases. He had only done this for one other person, and she had been very special. That had lasted eight months, and Tim hoped that whatever was happening with Dennis would last longer than that relationship did. He didn't know what to call it, but all he knew was that when he thought of Dennis, he got butterflies in his stomach. 

He looked at the clock again; Dennis was an hour late. Tim's shoulders slumped and eyes gravitated to the linoleum in the kitchen. He had gotten his hopes up too high, and now he was going to get burned again. He was about to stand and turn off the oven when there was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it and should have been overjoyed when he saw Dennis on the other side, but the pent up nervousness inside him had suddenly turned into anger. 

"Hey," Dennis said, flashing his bright smile. "Sorry I'm late, we had to bring someone in; large guy too, it took four of us to wrestle him into the damn truck." Dennis handed a brown paper bag to Tim, who took it from him. "I picked up a bottle of wine." 

Tim crossed his arms across his chest and frowned. 

Dennis looked up and saw the expression on Tim's face. "What?" Dennis licked his lower lip. "You don't like red? I can go back for a bottle of white." 

"You know, when I'm late, I usually call the person I'm meeting to let them know that I'm going to be late." 

Dennis pursed his lips together and crossed his arms across his chest. Both men faced each other, arms crossed, frowns on their faces, mimicking each other. 

"Uh huh?" 

"Yeah. The lasagna's almost dried out, the salad's wilted, the bread's all hard." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"Well, I was hauling someone in, Tim. I said I was sorry." 

"And you couldn't call?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"You could have taken a minute to call." 

"Yeah, I'm gonna tell some 300 pound biker, _Hey, buddy, could ya quit squirming 'cause I gotta call my boyfriend?_ " 

Tim shifted his weight, he bit his tongue, but that didn't stop him from lashing out, "You have a goddamn cell phone, use it!" 

Dennis spun on his heel and exited the apartment, leaving Tim standing there, holding the bottle of wine in one hand and his oven mitts in the other. Tim raised his hand containing the wine to throw it, but caught himself, instead opting to fling the oven mitts across the living room. 

"Fuck!" Tim bellowed before stomping bask to the kitchen. 

He placed the wine on the counter and stood there, his hands in front of him, bracing himself so he wouldn't collapse. His heart was heavy, and he felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. _I sure screwed that up._ He turned the oven off and went to take the lasagna out, realizing that he had to find his oven mitts. He wouldn't allow the tears to come as he went back to the living room to find them. 

There was a knock at the door. Tim shuffled over to it, hoping it was Death on the other side, scythe in hand to kill him and put him out of his misery. It was Dennis. 

He didn't come in, instead he braced his hands on either side of the door frame and leaned in slightly. Tim looked up at the ceiling then at Dennis. He took a breath and tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he motioned with his hand for him to come inside. 

Dennis gave him the barest smirk and walked into the apartment, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it. 

Tim shook his head and looked sheepishly up at the bounty hunter. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Tim drifted off and shook his head again before giving a nervous laugh, "You know, I'm...I'm nervous, and I overreacted and I..." Tim laughed again, "I channeled my mother just then." 

He licked his lips and looked up at Dennis, who was still leaning against the door, his arms folded across his chest, the barest hint of a smirk on his mouth. 

"So, uh, I guess this was our first fight." 

"You done ranting, Timmy?" 

"God, yes, please stop me before I continue." 

Dennis leaned away from the door and crossed the short space to where Tim stood. "I'm glad, because I can't kiss you when you're ranting." Dennis leaned in and kissed Tim, pulling away after a few lingering moments. 

"I'm sorry, Dennis," Tim whispered as his lips pulled away for a brief second. 

"S'okay, Tim. You were just letting off steam. I know how it is." 

Their mouths met again, their actions soft at first, but soon Dennis had Tim pressed up against the wall, his tongue delicately probing the detective's mouth. Tim could feel the bulge in Dennis' pants meet his as he pressed his pelvis into him. Suddenly, Tim pulled away and held up his hands. 

"No. We're gonna eat first. I'm not letting this food go to waste after I bitched about it for..." He checked his watch, "...minutes." 

Dennis leaned forward and kissed Tim's neck. "C'mon, Timmy, not just a little?" 

Tim bit down on his lip and sighed, "No. Remember what happened last weekend when I came to your place and we forgot about the chicken in the oven?" 

"Hockey pucks." 

"Hockey pucks." 

Both men laughed together and kissed again before Tim moved into the kitchen to get the food out of the oven. 

* * *

After dinner, they went into the living room and turned on the television to watch the end of the baseball game. Tim was leaning against Dennis, finishing his wine. This felt good, felt right. Tim gave a little sigh. "Again, I'm sorry about before." 

"I told you, it's okay." 

"I shouldn't have yelled at you." 

"I have thick skin. I usually get yelled at a good ten times a day. As a matter of fact, yesterday, some woman, a very nice, well-to-do woman as a matter of fact, called me a slimy motherfucker because I was hauling her son away." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. People don't think you're one of the good guys; they just see you coming to take their loved ones away to jail." 

Tim nodded; he knew exactly what he meant. 

"A lot of the time, it doesn't mean anything; they're just letting off steam. Like you did today." 

"It was still...I shouldn't have...I shouldn't do that." 

Dennis squeezed Tim tightly and kissed the side of his head. "No matter." 

They sat in silence, watching the game for a few minutes before Tim spoke again, "Dennis?" 

"Hmmm?" 

Tim turned off the television and sat up to look at Dennis. "You know, this isn't easy for me. I, uh, I've made some choices lately that have not turned out well at all." 

Dennis eyed the cop with his expressionless gaze, "Are you saying this is a bad choice?" 

"No, not at all. I...I have this hole inside me, this empty place, this void that needs to be filled." Tim took a deep breath. 

"I used to have this partner, a working partner, Frank. We had this strange relationship. We would fight and yell and scream and aggravate each other constantly. We were always pushing each other's buttons. He'd deliberately _forget_ to buy me a sandwich, then I'd deliberately _forget_ to give him a pastry. I would try to make a point, and he would disagree with me, then I'd talk louder to try to get my view heard. Pretty soon we'd end up in each other's face, yelling at each other. I knew deep down that he probably agreed with me, but he was disagreeing with me just to disagree with me and piss me off. He was like that, always challenging me, always trying to change my view. We were like this old married couple, you know? Like the Bunkers or something. But you know, even though we'd argue and get on each other's nerves, there was this underlying respect and...and love. Even though he drove me nuts, Frank made me think about things. He was a great friend, a great partner, a great cop. He was my rock and he filled my void. Then we weren't partners anymore, and the void, the empty feeling inside me came back. Frank quit last year, and I really began to feel the emptiness then. I tried to fill it with all sorts of things, but nothing felt right." 

Tim gave a little laugh, "You know, if you ever asked him about it, he'd deny everything, but I knew he loved me too. He was as hard as steel on the outside, but on the inside, he was as soft as a butter cream. Now, I don't mean he was soft at his job. He was a good cop, but he had feelings too, you know?" 

He sighed, "So, now I got this hole, this void inside of me, and it aches, and it's hard to stop the ache, to fill the hole in. Buddhism didn't do it; I thought it did, but I still had this nagging emptiness inside of me. And now...." Tim took a deep breath. "Now, I meet you and the hole, the void, it's starting to get filled up. And...Do you know what I mean, Dennis?" 

"I think I do." 

"It's not just the sex, I mean the sex is... incredible, but I feel something else. We've got some vibe going here, do you feel it?" 

"I feel a vibe." 

"Good, 'cause when two people have the same vibe, it's a good thing....you know, two people who are on the same level is... uh.... good... and... um... well... You can tell me to shut up at any time, you know." 

"Naw, I think I'll let you continue on until you compare it to solving a red ball." 

Tim groaned. 

Dennis looked him in the eye before giving his hand a squeeze. "Let's take this slow, okay?" 

Tim pursed his lips together and frowned again. 

"Hey," Dennis reached over and stroked Tim's cheek with the back of his hand. "I want this, Tim. I want this so bad that I don't want to fuck it up. That's why I want to take this slow. I don't want to jump into this; I want to make it last." 

"Me too. I want this to last a long time." 

Tim leaned forward and kissed Dennis, his lips parting slightly to allow passage of his tongue. He moved closer to the bounty hunter, his hands caressing his shoulders, kneading the flesh underneath the black fabric of his shirt. His mouth remained locked on the other one as his hands moved down Dennis' back to linger at his pants, fingers moving slightly under the waistband to untuck the shirt. 

"I want...please, Dennis, let me..." His mouth covered Dennis' in a searing kiss, obliterating the bounty hunter's answer. "Let me do this..." 

"Don't stop," Dennis moaned as Tim's mouth moved down to his muscular neck, licking a trail to the collar of his shirt. 

Tim's fingers shakily undid the buttons on the shirt and removed it from Dennis' body, drinking in the sight of his muscular physique. His arms reached around, allowing his hands to roam up and down Dennis' back again, feeling the hard muscles under the smooth skin. His mouth moved to kiss the bounty hunter again, pulling his tongue into his mouth and sucking on it. Something that had been pent up inside him was finally released, making him want to do this more than anything; he wanted to be in control, he wanted to make love to Dennis Knoll. 

His blood was pumping fast through his veins as his hands moved towards the front of Dennis' torso, skimming the smooth flesh and soft hair as he moved down to his pants. Tim felt the rush of adrenaline course through him as he pulled his mouth away and moved down to Dennis' neck again, nibbling down to a pebbled nipple, latching on to it and sucking. He moved down so he was kneeling on front of the bounty hunter sitting on the couch. 

Dennis moaned and writhed under Tim's touch; one hand went to rest on the detective's shoulder, the other caressing the nape of his neck. Tim smiled as he moved his tongue down the line of hair to Dennis' groin. Nervous tension knotted his stomach as he continued his journey downward. He wanted to make Dennis feel good; he had never taken the lead before and wanted to satisfy the other man completely. 

Tim undid Dennis' belt with shaking hands, then popped the button and brought the zipper down on the black wool trousers. His hand dipped inside and grasped the erection there, bringing it up over the elastic of his underwear. It was hot and throbbing in Tim's hand as he caressed it gently before kissing the tip. A moan came from above as Tim delicately licked the head of the cock, a string of pre-cum leading from his lips to the head as he pulled off. 

Tim looked up at Dennis as he licked his lips. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed. His chest hair was damp with sweat and his lips were parted slightly. Tim was shaking, adrenaline coursing through his veins, as he went back to the task at hand, licking and sucking at the head of Dennis' cock. He could feel his own organ start to throb between his legs as he swallowed the pre-cum, his arousal doing nothing to help him relax. 

"Tim....Timmy...I'm gonna come soon." 

Tim pulled off of Dennis and moved up to kiss him, then stood on shaking legs as he pulled him up by his hand. Dennis' cock bobbed in front of him through his open trousers as Tim led him down the hallway to the bedroom. Once there, Tim pushed Dennis back to lie on the bed. He pulled the remainder of Dennis' clothes off, then started on his own. He was having trouble unbuttoning his own shirt, and Dennis reached out to help, but Tim pushed him down again. 

"No," he said softly. 

He finally removed his clothing, then knelt on the bed beside Dennis, stroking his thigh with his long fingers, "I want to make love to you, Dennis." Tim took a shaky breath and looked into the bounty hunter's eyes; the pupils had nearly obliterated the hazel iris, leaving the barest rim of colour. 

Dennis moved his hand up to cup Tim's chin and brought him down for a long kiss before pulling away, "I'd be honoured if you'd make love to me, Tim." 

With those words, Tim felt calm and at peace. He hadn't known if Dennis would go for it or not. What little experience he had with male relationships had taught him that one was the top and one was the bottom; he didn't know if it was okay to switch or not. 

Tim reached over and got a condom and a bottle of the same brand of lubricant Dennis had used out of the drawer beside the bed. He could feel Dennis watching him and was suddenly nervous again and fumbling with the flip-top before he managed to squeeze a generous amount onto his fingers. Dennis moved his knees up and spread his legs wide as Tim placed his fingers down to his opening. Tim circled the entrance a few times, as had been done to him before, then pressed in with his index finger. The walls of Dennis felt smooth and satiny, like hot velvet. He moved his finger around and pushed in deeper, circling, stroking the sides until Dennis jumped beneath him. 

"Mmmm, baby, that's good." 

Tim smiled as he saw his lover squirm around, moving his hips around on his finger. Soon, Tim had another finger inside, helping the first caress the smooth hole, watching Dennis jerk as he caressed his prostate while he lay sprawled on the bed, panting and moaning. After a few minutes, Tim took the cue and put on the condom, making sure to lubricate it well, before he positioned himself over the other man. Dennis lifted his legs up with his hands and bit his lip as Tim entered him swiftly. 

Tim breathed in sharply at the tight, velvet heat that enveloped his cock. He had never felt anything like this; it felt so good. He began to move in and out of Dennis, his arms bracing him on either side of the bounty hunter. He knew he should probably take this slow, but he couldn't; his hips started moving faster and faster until he was pounding into Dennis with a force that made his whole bed shake. Both men were moaning with every stroke. Tim's arms wrapped tightly around his lover, his hips thrusting wildly, lost in the sensations. 

"Timmy....god, Timmy, finish me off, I can't stand it!" 

Tim was jerked back to reality and reached down to pump Dennis' cock. It took no more than five strokes before he came with a cry, splattering them both with his fluid. Tim kept plunging in and out of Dennis, lost in his zone once again, the feelings overwhelming him. 

"Oh god...oh god...oh Dennis, I love you, Dennis!" Tim screamed as he thrust forward one more time, his body shattering into shards of ecstasy as he came. He collapsed forward, chest heaving, as he felt the last remnants of the orgasm travel up his spine. He held Dennis forever, so it seemed, embedded inside him, until he rolled to the side and reached for the kleenex beside the bed. He cleaned himself up then turned to Dennis, who seemed to be sleeping. He shook him but didn't get a response right away. 

"Dennis? Dennis, you okay?" Tim shook the man again, afraid he had had a stroke or something. 

Dennis moaned. 

"C'mon, this isn't funny." 

Dennis moaned again and blinked open his eyes slightly, "I can't move." 

"You scared me." 

"You made me pass out, Timmy. Where the hell has that libido of yours been hiding?" 

"Um...well...it's always been there, I just hadn't used it with you yet." 

"It's always the shy ones that are the masters in the bedroom." 

"So what's your excuse?" 

"Are you calling me a bad lay, or are you calling me brazen?" 

"Definitely, brash. And you're not a _lay_ , Dennis." 

Dennis reached up for his lover and brought him down to lie beside him. They kissed for a long time, lingering until it petered out into baby kisses, then they lay beside each other, lips just touching, breathing each other's breath. Soon, they were drifting off to sleep, and Dennis rolled over so he could scoot up behind Tim and mold his body to his. They lay together, Dennis' arm around Tim, fingers entwined, kissing his shoulder softly. 

"I meant it when I said I love you," Tim whispered. 

"I know. I love you too." 

Tim squeezed Dennis' hand tightly, happy his void had been filled, knowing that this felt so right, before he settled down and fell asleep. 

The End 

* * *

Life on the Street B/K   
Rating: NC-17 for some bad words and m/m sex.   
Sequel to Second Chance   
If you liked this, please tell me. [email removed]   
All my fic can be found at: http://www.squidge.org/terma   
Spoilers: Justice, Fallen Heroes, Wanted Dead or Alive, Homicide.com, Truth Will Out and Zen & the Art of Murder   
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to NBC, Baltimore Pictures and a whole bunch of other people.   
Summary: Continuation of the start of Tim Bayliss and Dennis Knoll's relationship. There was a plot here at one time. Now it's just a schmoopy smutfest. Not that there's anything wrong with that!   
Comments: Thanks to Amy Orithain and Aries for beta. Additional thanks to Amy for dragging me into yet another fandom!   
(4/99)   
---


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